pillars
by displayheartcode
Summary: "Your husband is different," said Tom as his partner showed Ginny a passage in his book. Antiquing leads to some strange revelations for the Potter family that brings them across universes. [Crossover]


**a/n**: Nonsensical idea that's been brewing for a while. It's an old, old piece and any recognizable parts are from A Wizard Alone.

**Disclaimer**: ha ha ha ha ha

**Title**: pillars

**Word Count: **890

**Summary**: "Your husband is different," said Tom as his partner showed Ginny a passage in his book. Antiquing leads to some strange revelations for the Potter family that brings them across universes. [Crossover]

* * *

"The sobriquet "Pillars" refers to the immense supportive strength inherent in these beings wherever they appear. The physical and spiritual structure of the Universe and its contents is strengthened against the assaults of evil by the Pillars' presence, and weakened by their loss. While they occasionally may also be wizards, [Pillars] display no unusual aptitude for the Art: their value lies elsewhere. Their status comes from direct endowment by the One; their power is derived strictly from the incorrupt nature of their personality. "

**\- Principalities, Thrones, Dominations**

"The moon?" said Ginny as Carl ended his phone call. She calmly sipped her water, hoping that part of the conversation was a strange turn of phrase in a universe where antique wardrobes were doorways to high hedges that brought them to a very different America.

The complaining koi fish had been the first clue.

Now she was sitting on the back porch that belonged to two wizards, watching her husband being shaken down for dog biscuits by a loud sheepdog as a wizard was arguing with a girl on the phone about her pet projects and how she should return from the moon.

Carl, one of the owners of the property she and Harry had appeared in, gave her a weary smile. They were used to people randomly appearing through their hedges, as they had explained earlier. Carl set his mobile phone down and ran a hand through his dark hair. "Oh, it's far too real here."

His partner, Tom, looking up from the pile of books he was consulting about their situation. He snorted. "Leave it to Dairine. We keep telling her to close the door after she leaves…"

"I'm just thankful it wasn't Darth Vader," Carl said. He looked over where the dogs bounded in circles around Harry, asking him a series of terrifying questions in hopes of getting treats to shut them up.

"Do they do this often?" Ginny asked.

"Only when they think someone is a good enough target." Carl leaned back in his seat. He sighed. "The other month, they were asking about the meaning of life. Gave them a biscuit and told them it was an allegory."

Tom chimed in, "And then they told the other dogs in the neighborhood about their tricks. _Monsters."_

"Funny," said Ginny. "I had the same issue with the kids about Santa."

Out in the yard, the sheepdog asked Harry where babies came from.

Tom looked up at the sky, hands raised in parental defeat. "Great, now she's harassing fictional characters."

Ginny felt a pang of sympathy for Harry. She waved cheerfully at him.

Harry made a rude gesture just as the dog pounced and knocked him to the ground. The other one leaned over Harry's face and drooled.

"An incorruptible nature," Tom commented, his tone light. He watched the scene with a distant expression. He shared a quick glance with his partner, a look Ginny instantly recognized from whenever she and Harry had to be discrete around their kids.

Carl raised his eyebrows. He cleared his throat, pulling a piece of chalk from thin air. "In the meantime, we'll just need to gather some data to prepare the spell. Things like your birth date, the last book you read—"

"And any weird fun facts about your husband," Tom interjected, startling Ginny.

_"Tom!"_ Carl made a sharp gesture to where Harry was being smothered by the dogs' love. There was a blast of wind, throwing a wayward broken branch in the air. Distracted, the dogs bolted for it, dragging an unwilling Harry with them. "We've talked about this."

"How often do any of us get to prove a fun theory?" Tom turned back to Ginny. "As you can tell, we're familiar with inter-dimensional travel, and sometimes we develop…_theories_. Another occupational hazard. Wizards here are often avid readers and it becomes a fun exercise to see what theories might be true if we're given a chance to prove it."

Ginny blinked. She stared at the two wizards. "What?"

"Your husband is different," said Tom as his partner showed Ginny a passage in his book. "Even by our standards. Keep in mind that this is all purely theoretical."

Ginny looked at the page. She read it over. "My husband is a…column?"

"Pillar," Carl corrected. "To be honest, Tom has the same theory about Luke Skywalker."

Ginny read it again. She looked over to where Harry was giving one of the dogs a belly rub. _…their power is derived strictly from the incorrupt nature of their personality…_

Was Harry truly incorruptible? Yes, there were jokes about his personality, his shining goodness, and righteous moral compass. But this was also Harry, the father who built pillow and blanket forts in their living room with the kids, the man who often went to sleep with his glasses still on his face. He was simply _Harry_.

As if reading her thoughts, Carl said lightly, "It tends not to be obvious. Sainthood nowadays looks old-fashioned, unattainable… even repellent. Actually, you can see it all around, once you learn to spot it. Like with Harry. He has this aura of virtue all around him."

"He's a person," Ginny insisted. "Not a saint."

"What matters at the end is that he's a good person," Tom said. "And that my theory is looking right so far. Carl, you so owe me."


End file.
